Friday, April 8, 2011

Still Learning to Love Domestic Life: My 6 Word Memoirs from April 5-7

I no longer want three marriages.

One husband is more than enough.

Even when he coughs and snorts.

I think of animals in bed.

This is the wrong direction. Turn around.

Reincarnation gives me hope for fame.

Dishes, laundry, sweeping, scrubbing. For fun?

Have to do/Want to do.

This year: posed naked, taught adults.

Three classes end. What’s next, God?

Five, fifteen, thirty-five. Same body.

I'm trying to stop killing plants.

Black thumb girl is given flowers.

Son is begging for a garden.

Crushed when carrot seeds don't grow.

Son, husband, dog, cat. Plants too?

We are a three shutter house.

Fourth shutter on way to dump.

I am scared of growing things.

Killed even the most durable plants.

Confessions of a reformed book whore.

It’s hard to sum up anyone’s life.

It's always something else with me.

Maybe this spring will be different?

Maybe next life I'll try pig farming.

Lost track of time. Still alive.

I eat my food and words.

Inspired by "Not Quite What I Was Planning: Six-Word Memoirs by Writers Famous and Obscure"


  1. Crawled. Walked. Soared. Saved by motherhood.

  2. I kill plants too! Support group?

  3. Conference planning may kill me yet.

  4. Or . . .

    Always doing something instead of writing.

  5. Green thumb? Not necessary. Read instead.

  6. He left me for another. Whew!

  7. Must have daily bit of chocolate. Consistency doesn't seem to be her thing.
    Rehabilitated perfectionist seeking a new position.
    Hidden exhibitionist, terrified to be seen. It all just keeps tumbling out. Likes to believe she's in charge. Dove deeply, then learned to swim. Mom, it's not all about you. Still trying to get it together.